Meaning From Across The Battlefield
by imogenedisease
Summary: A hero cannot always save the one loves. SLASH HD


Harry has grown into a complex man. Weary at twenty five with a slight taste of blood forever in his mouth. There's a messenger y day, and he usually reports new casualties. Harry has nearly stopped listening. He appears numb. At the news of Lupin's death he sighed and made a cup of coffee, more sugary than he liked, as if channelling Lupin's sugar fixation.

He listened to the updates of Hermione's coma while reading the paper. The wizarding terrorists in London caught his notice for less than five minutes. He was falling away from what he had been.Voldemort was still strong. Harry was growing weak.

It was the death of the unexpected that did him in. Among a list of casualties from both sides, the name of Draco Malfoy scarcely stood out above Lucius and across from Luna. The messenger did not understand the glass shattering beside his head, looked again at the list for one to cause such a reaction. He left. throughly confused, unsure what to report to anxious Order members.

Harry locked himself in the bathroom, unable to look into his own eyes. He was afraid of what he'd find there. Among the anger and the pity he would find something deeper, something unacceptable. He closed his eyes to shut out emotion, but it swelled in his chest and broke against his ribcage, tugging at his heart.

_ i "Why?"_

_"Why what Potter? Why not your side?"_

_"I..."_

_"Because I don't like your side. I don't like muggles and I don't like the bullshit Dumbledore spewed and I don't like you. I don't like fighting for something I don't believe in."_

_"Then why him?"_

_"Because if I'm going to fight for something ridiculous, I need assurances of power and respect. And because he will win."_

_"You'll die for something you don't believe in."_

_"So will you." /i _

Harry stayed in the bathroom until night fell. When dusk cast shadows across the tiles he finally looked up, looked into the mirror. Among disgust and anger and fear and pity he found fragile things. He found regret and splinters of hope. He saw apathy fade, replaced with something darker and more sincere. He saw sadness.

He closed his eyes, and he didn't see anything, but it didn't matter, because his heart was still being toyed with, and the sting was nearly unbearable.

_ i "Potter."_

_"Go."_

_"The line is "Die.", you're meant to kill me. This is war, not some sort of twisted game"_

_"Leave."_

_"Don't you dare save me. I will kill you myself if you turn that hero complex upon me."_

_"It's not a...just go."_

_"No."_

_"Immobilius."_

_And Draco was caught in the middle of rolling his eyes. /i _

Harry lay in bed for days. The messenger returned with others, others that knew Harry. Weasleys. They tried to tiptoe around him, but none were known for tact, and one had to ask. Harry doesn't remember which. They all seem the same to him now, all more subdued. There's fewer of them He remembers that. Only one twin, who looks at him with haunted eyes. All men.

They searched the list for a meaningful casualty, and settled on Luna. Harry's eyes did not change. They listed them in front of him, watched green slip away at the mention of the younger Malfoy. They didn't understand.

Harry didn't need them to understand. Harry had broken.

_ i "What are you doing?"_

_"Healing you."_

_"We really need to stop meeting on the battlefield like this. I'm starting to think you fight for an excuse to see me." A weak cough, a parody of a smile._

_"Of course, I find your presence worth the death."_

_The smile fades. "Potter..."_

_"Don't..."_

_"I'm sorry that I'm not brave like you."_

_"Please don't..."_

_"I wish I was, but I'm not. I can't be anything but this." /i _

Harry cries. He denies it, but his eyes betray him. The Weasleys are again confused. One theorizes that the number of casualties is the problem, that Malfoy was just the number to break Harry. If Harry heard that theory, maybe he'd laugh a little. But he hasn't laughed in months, and he won't now.

Harry is broken, and it is Malfoy's fault, as everything has been.

_ i _

_"Did you kill all these people just for an excuse to see me? How sweet."_

_"Malfoy..."_

_"You've killed my mother, surely you have the right to call me Draco."_

_"I'm sorry..."_

_"You're not, but it doesn't matter."_

_"I just..."_

_"It doesn't matter." /i _

"Malfoy, you stubborn prick."

No response.

"Don't you dare pretend you didn't come back as a ghost, I'll bet you did."

Silence.

A voice thick with tears. "You fuck. You weren't supposed to die. I was supposed to save you. You would come to our side and I'd protect you, and you'd be grateful."

The silence is heavy against Harry, and he slumps.

"And look what you've done."

Ragged breathing. Harry starts, almost hopeful, before realizing it is his own.

A whisper. "I hate you." A pause. "You were supposed to live."

Harry screams into the empty dawn. He wipes his cheeks. He looks around, wants his eyes to trick him, wants the shadows to embrace him, to taste like darkness.

Nothing happens and he gives up. He stands. He takes a step, pauses before taking another. He apparates, apparates to see Hermione, to visit Lupin's grave. He apparates across the UK, visiting one new grave after another until he collapses, almost too exhausted to move.

There's one grave left, and he focuses, focuses on a grey morning over an equally bland gravesite, letters strung together; letters meant to mean something. Harry focuses, and he is splinched when he arrives. He sees nothing amiss, but knows something vital is missing.

He smiles.

_ i "Here again?"_

"_Join us."_

"_Give me one reason to."_

"_I love you."_

_Eyes only a little wide. "I'd rather die than join you."_

"_I know you love me back."_

"_I don't."_

"_Draco, I know you do."_

"_I don't! Get away! I'll kill you! I'll kill myself!"_

"_I know you do. Stop being afraid."_

_Ragged breathing. "I can't." /i _


End file.
